In 1949, Juan Tonamera, a wealthy businessman from Mexico City, travelled to Buenos Aires for tango lessons. He, as always, brought his prized Chihuahua Pepe with him. Pepe was a big hit around town, people were surprised to see a Mexican businessman carrying around a small dog in a purse and found it quite amusing. Before long everyone was talking about Juan & Pepe. People would begin conversations with, "Have you seen Pepe yet today?" and "Oh you just missed Juan & Pepe" and sometimes expletives although the latter usually didn't involve Juan or Pepe.
On the morning of August 4, 1949 the people of Buenos Aires were in for something special. Madame Lisl Von Stubinfoch was departing on the ocean liner "Das Schwachsinn" bound for Germany to reunite with her husband Heinrich. Many people were gathered to wish her "Bon Voyage" which was really weird since that phrase is French and she was in Argentina and she was German, but I digress. Madame Lisl wasn't willing to leave until she got a goodbye kiss from little Pepe, but alas Pepe could not be found. Juan had lost all of his composure and was running around screaming for Pepe. But alas… no Pepe.
Then suddenly, people started pointing to the sky. To everyone's amazement, Pepe was floating through the air, about 20 ft. above the ground. As you could imagine, Juan was affright. A general sense of bewilderment fell upon the crowd. That's when Lisl made a very important observation. "I can hear eine wings flappin!" she screamed (in a thick German accent), but no one could see the wings. There it was, a flying Chihuahua accompanied with the sound of flapping wings, yet no wings visible. Astonishment turned to fear, and fear to remorse. Juan, clutching little Pepe's travel purse, with tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat called out to Pepe, "Adios mi pequeno amigo."
Madame Lisl, in a moment of anguish yet with unbelievable foresight screamed in her thick German accent, "You droppen mein liebchen at once!" And just then, quite coincidentally, little Pepe began to drop. Juan dove towards the falling Pepe, holding his purse open in his outstretched hands. In what can only be referred to as the "Juan Dive Miracle" Pepe landed safely and directly in his travel purse, thus negating a squished Pepe. Juan was relieved and Pepe was no worse for the wear other than a nagging ear itch. Madame Lisl received her goodbye kiss from Pepe and departed for Germany. The crowd dispersed, bewildered and amused.
When Lisl returned home and described these events to her husband Heinrich, he then first postulated that it could have been a glarmoth that carried little Pepe. But to carry a Chihuahua, it would have to be the largest glarmoth ever! That is when Heinrich Von Stubinfoch began planning his expedition to South America, eventually cataloguing the Great Patagonian Glarmoth.
2019 is the 70 year anniversary of these events, yet thanks to the leprechaun agenda, you won't find any of these stories in a history book. Please take a moment to recognize the accomplishments of professor Heinrich Von Stubinfoch, The Day of the Flying Chihuahua, and of course, the "Juan Dive Miracle".